4 An Oscar to Steele
by SteeleHere44
Summary: Story 4 Miss Holt and Mr. Steele got tangled in a showbiz nightmare.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:

Remington Steele and its characters are owned by MTM. No copyright infringement intended. For entertainment purposes only.

Set after Season 4. Bonds of Steele and Season 5 are not in my universe.

Chapter1:

The week had been frantic. After closing the Dumont's case, they were enjoying a lovely weekend at the golf fields. The Los Angeles Country Club was magnificent. A fantastic par 72 course. The clubhouse had been built in 1911, and it was one of the first Golf Clubs in Los Angeles. The restaurant was open to a terrace full of tables, and down the stairs was a beautiful fountain, a refreshing touch to the California dry landscape… The main building was surrounded by an impressive 36 holes course. By the right side of the club were the tennis courts, always full of players and trainers working to maintain the high-level competition between the members of the institution. A hard task.

Mr. Steele had been watching the course from his office windows, looking forward to the chance to play there since his first day as Remington Steele. They'd played their first round between them there when the Marcall's case had been closed. Mr. Marcall had adopted them as his permanent guests.

But the club held other additional pleasures for Mr. Steele, aside from the sports practice itself. Every relevant character in the movie industry was a member of the institution. The chance to meet a star from the big screen was high.

They started to play early to enjoy the fresh morning air. They were the first line, without anybody ahead of them to make the walk slow. Only one of them supported this idea, in fact. The other one would have loved to start a little later. But if Laura were playing, the game would be faced first time in the morning and energetically. When they arrived at the 16th green, Mr. Steele was already hungry. But not only for food. They were going to have lunch at the clubhouse, and he couldn't wait to get there in time. Sitting with Laura on the terrace would give him the chance to watch for any random star having lunch there.

"Congratulations, Laura! Your approach was splendid! Let's check your abilities with the putter." Then, he took the flag out of the hole leaving enough room for Laura's ball to roll in. She did it with an accurate shot. There were only 2 holes left till the end of the game. Laura was ahead of him by 2 shots. Certainly, he would have to improve at the end of the match to at least equal her game. They'd made a bet the day before: if she won, he would have to play a tennis match after lunch. But if the winner was Mr. Steele, they were going to enjoy a romantic dinner at his place in front of the fireplace, including chilled champagne to relax them after a strenuous day.

The 17th hole was an advance for him. Laura was only one shot ahead at the start of the 18th hole. He had to think of something to kill her advantage. After two shots, they were already on the 18th green. If she sunk the ball, she was the winner, and all thoughts about a romantic dinner would have to wait for a different opportunity. Laura was farther from the hole than he was, so she was to make her shot first. She grabbed the putter and gave a threatening gaze to her opponent. Then she put her left hand in the back pocket of her pants while making an analysis about her next t move. She noticed then that something was missing.

"Oh, I lost my glove!" she asked him.

"Ahh, Miss Holt. Is this an excuse to delay your last shot? That's not good… Be a good player and do your shot, you are not going to put my mind out of the game at this instance, Mr. Steele answered smiling triumphantly.

"Ok, I'll do it, Mr. Steele. There's no need to be like that. It wasn't a trick to distract you. I was only asking…" She then played her shot, but at that point, she was a little unfocused and missed the hole. He made his shot then, and voilá, they were tied for the game, and for a promising evening.

"Well, Miss Holt, it looks like we'll have to play tennis after lunch, and we have a scheduled dinner to attend as well. It's going to be a long day," "Let's head to the restaurant to have our strength recovered for the next challenge," he said while arranging his gear in his golf bag, hiding the stolen glove in a secure place.

They'd chosen their seats offering a great view of the rest of the tables all over the terrace. The players were finishing their rounds, and Mr. Steele felt like in heaven, looking all around for known faces, and explaining to Miss Holt who was who in the place.

Once the place was already full of diners, and their orders were on the table, they started to enjoy their meals. After a few minutes, something caught Mr. Steele's attention. There was a man at the table behind them, talking with his friend about something related to the Academy Awards. Just when he was tuning his ears to catch more of the conversation, Laura asked him," If you eat everything you've ordered, you will not be able to move even one inch on the tennis court."

"Yes, I will," he answered shortly.

"Because if not, I would love to taste your salad. It looks delicious."

"Take the salad, Laura," He told her pushing the dish towards her, trying to be free to listen to the gentleman's conversation behind him.

"I was not implying that I wanted all the salad, you know? I wanted only a bite or two." She returned it to him. Realizing he wasn't paying attention to her words, she asked him, "What's happening to you?"

"Shhh, Laura. I'm trying to listen…," he answered...

"Are you spying on the neighbors? Mr. Steele, are you insane? We are guests here! Mr. Marcall invited us! You can't spy on other diners conversations…""

But with her talking, he couldn't catch the end of the conversation. After taking a sip of wine, he put his napkin on the table, stood up and walked to the next table, "Excuse me Sir, but I couldn't help listening to what you were saying. Were you talking about the Academy Awards, The Academy Awards?" He asked.

"Excuse me, Do I know you?" asked the man.

"Ahh, Excuse my manners… I'm Remington Steele."

"The Remington Steele?" asked the man smiling with excitement.

"The man in the flesh," he answered. "I see my reputation precedes me," he stated offering a satisfied grin to all the members of the table. Laura couldn't believe it. What was he doing?

"Come on, Mr. Steele. Have a seat with us! We are in the middle of a conversation about a subject that might catch your interest," said the man.

"Thank you, thank you, gentlemen. Please let me introduce you my associate, Laura Holt," he said gesturing towards a bewildered Miss Holt, to join the members of the table.

"Nice to meet you," said Laura shaking hands with the man.

"My pleasure Miss Holt, my name is Michael Fairbanks. I am the Chairman at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, most known as The Academy as your boss correctly stated. And these are my golf friends, Sean Collins, Peter O'Hara, Barry Porter, Dale Baxter, and Jerry Mitchell. At that very moment, Laura realized what had caught Mr. Steele's attention.

Once the introductions were over, they resumed their conversation about the matter that had intrigued the detective.

"You know, Steele, the Ceremony will be on Monday, next week. But we are sort of worried because something unusual might be happening. And if we confirm our suspicions and find that's true, we need to find a solution as soon as possible, because we can't reschedule the Oscar Ceremony," said Fairbanks.

At that point, Mr. Steele's face reflected a mix of heaven and hell. He couldn't believe he was talking to a Douglas Fairbanks descendant, but at the same time, he realized his lousy luck because work would interfere with such a pleasurable moment. He couldn't believe that the one time he was getting close to the core of show business; a case would shadow his dream. At that very moment, he realized too, that Laura, who besides him, had switched into full work mode in less than a second, ready to turn the pleasant conversation into a business one.

"My infallible instincts tell me you've found the right person to help you, Mr. Fairbanks," he stated. Laura sent a look at him, full of seriousness and disbelief. How could he be that unprofessional? And with The Academy chairman in the flesh, nothing less. But she didn't have the time to introduce a word, while all the men at the table were speaking to Mr. Steele, telling him all about the surreal situation they were suspecting were going to happen.

"You know, Mr. Steele, there is a betting game on the Academy Awards going on out there. We don't have anything to do with that. But there are Betting Houses all around the world, speculating on the Oscar winners. A lot of money is involved. The Academy has a certain number of members from different areas of the industry. They make their vote, and all the results are kept top secret. There is a company in charge of protecting the envelopes with the final results to the stage the night of the Ceremony. The situation is that one of the Betting Houses is taking millions of dollars for a movie that is not a favorite. We don't know if the information has been filtered by one member of The Academy, or if it's a random coincidence. If one film that is not the favorite wins, and a lot of unexpected bets flow in the wrong direction, might look extremely dangerous, it would look as if a member could have filtered the information to someone to make money and manipulate the bets. Our confidence would be broken forever. It would be the end of the Academy," said Mr. Fairbanks.

"What makes you think that some member of the Academy would betray the secret?" asked Mr. Steele, his face full of curiosity.

Laura, who was still in shock, tried to find a gap in the conversation to put in an excuse to delay their compromise until they could analyze the case and get some information about the facts. But the men at the table didn't bother to give her a chance. It was a gentlemen's business discussion, and she was there only because Mr. Steele had introduced her. It didn't care she had been introduced like an associate. They were thinking about her as a secretary. And secretaries exist to receive orders, not to offer opinions.

After the whole explanation had already been done, and a meeting had been set for Monday morning, the men shook hands, and the detectives returned back to their table. Mr. Steele was satisfied with the turn of events. Finally, he would have the chance to be in touch with la crème de la crème in the film industry. However, Miss Holt wasn't satisfied at all. Right as they had sat down, she put her napkin back in place after a sharp shake before speaking, "May I remind you that the decision of agreeing to take a case involves not only yours but my opinion too. Why did you do that? This is huge! We are talking about The Academy! We should have listened to their words, and asked for some time to make an analysis of the case before agreeing to take it! This can blow up in front of our faces!"

"For Heaven's sake, Laura! Don't tell me you are not as intrigued as I am. Just think of the publicity this would bring to the Remington Steele Agency! We can't let the opportunity slip out of our hands. You know, Laura, luck doesn't knock at your door twice. You have to take the opportunity when you have the chance. And our day was today."

"I don't know if you realize that if this case doesn't end successfully, we'll be out of business. And if that happens, you would have to take your only chance to run away from my hands expediently, because if I have only one opportunity to strangle you, be sure that I will take it." She emphasized her last words graphically gesture.

"That's what I love about you, Miss Holt. You always trust me." He raised his glass and had a sip of wine, trying to finish their disagreement and start enjoying the rest of the meal.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Monday morning started as usual. Mildred getting everything ready for the week, Miss Holt at the office right on time, and Mr. Steele, still missing in action.

"Good morning Mildred. How was your weekend?" said Laura.

"Good morning Miss Holt. It was a busy one: bowling with the girls on Friday, a family reunion on Saturday, and Sunday trying to put some order in my closet. I'm glad it's already Monday. I'm more tired today than before the weekend started. How was yours, Honey? Who won the bet?"

Laura sat on Mildred's desk, and after a brief thought, she answered, "Well…, we started Saturday morning, playing golf with Mr. Steele, and ended Saturday evening, having dinner at the Rossmore. It was a draw." She paused then, and Mildred took the chance to make one of her unmistakable comments.

"It sounds like fun. But what did you do with the rest of the weekend? She approached Laura, waiting for her to share a juicy secret. "Count on me Honey, my lips are sealed."

"We spent the rest of the weekend working, Mildred. When we were having lunch at the Golf Club, Mr. Steele spied on the table next to us. They were talking about something that caught his attention. So, he decided to introduce himself to the gentlemen, and in a flash, we were immersed in a new case, helping the chairman of the Academy."

"What Academy?" asked Mildred disconcerted.

"THE Academy, Mildred. Hollywood, movies, awards, you know, The Academy."

"We are involved in a case with The Academy? The girls will not believe it! What is it about, Miss Holt?"

"It's a long story, Mildred. Why don't you bring some coffee to my office, and I'll tell you the whole version." Laura exhaled a deep sigh, took her purse, and after grabbing the mail from Mildred's desk, left the room.

After the whole explanation she'd extricated from Miss Holt, Mildred was beside herself with excitement. "So, we are going to work with them the week before to the ceremony? I bet it's the busiest week for them, if not the worst," said the secretary a little concerned, after Miss Holt's story.

"Why do I feel it will be the worst week for us too, Mildred? .Please tell me when Mr. Steele arrives. We have a meeting with Mr. Fairbanks at his office this afternoon, and I need to have a brief exchange with him before going."

"I'll buzz you, Miss Holt. Do you need anything else?"

"I don't need anything else Mildred, thank you."

Laura had been thinking about her little outburst at the Golf Club on Saturday. She wasn't ready to apologize about every word she'd said. But maybe she was ready to open up and give him a chance with one of the words he had said: 'trust.'

Mildred ran to her desk to grab the phone. If she were right, Mr. Steele would arrive in half an hour, and Miss Holt would be busy in her office until then. She had plenty of time to spread the news to her friends. They would not believe it! "Hello, Hazel? It's Mildred. You are not going to believe this…"

"Morning, morning, morning!"

"Good morning chief, how was your weekend?"

"Very satisfactory, Mildred, very satisfactory, indeed. Is Miss Holt in her office?" he asked.

"Yes, chief. She is waiting for you."

And with all the energy that a Monday morning allowed him, he walked to his office, and poked his face into Laura's office through the connecting door, "Good morning Miss Holt. Did you want to see me?"

"Yes, please come in. Have a seat." She had been thinking a lot about this talk... It was important to set the things clear before it could be too late. Once the ball started to roll, he was going to be distracted, and she would probably not have the chance to catch his attention to tell him what she needed. "Look, Mr. Steele, I know it's not fair to ask you to reject the case. It's an important one, and you managed things well enough to keep the attention of Fairbanks and for him to hire us. Besides, to have the chance to work face to face with Hollywood's royalty, it's a dream come true for you. However, at the same time, it's a big responsibility for the agency, and for me as the one who signs off on the paperwork. So, I'm going to ask you to be cautious, to follow the rules, and most important of all, don't make any move without consulting me. We work better together, and I'll respect you in this case, as the one who has the extra knowledge to follow success. You are in charge. Lead the work, but behave. And wait for my opinion before every step. Do you think you can do that?"

"Are these rules for the case only, or should I apply them in our private life too?" he asked recognizing her effort, but trying to break the seriousness of her statement. He loved to have the last word in every one of their exchanges. It drove Laura crazy and amused him.

She stared at him, and after a brief thought, answered smiling, "Lead the case, Mr. Steele. We'll talk about our private life later, a glass of wine in hand." She ended her words, standing up to start their way to the meeting.

Fred drove them to Mr. Fairbanks' building, but when they arrived, there were a lot of people surrounding the entrance. They walked through the crowd, and once in front of the door, they noticed it was sheltered by two policemen. When they turned around, they realized the street was full of journalists and photographers.

"What happened?" asked Laura to one of the photographers.

"It seems that Michael Fairbanks was killed this morning," he answered her.

Laura gave a quick glance to Mr. Steele, and then asked the nearest policeman, "Who is in charge?"

"Detective Jarvis is in charge, madam."

"Can you tell him Mr. Steele is here, and he has something urgent to share with him about Mr. Fairbanks?"

"I'll do it. Please wait outside, behind the yellow band," said the officer.

They went to the place where they were supposed to stay. After a few minutes, the officer returned and allowed them into the building. Another policeman guided them to the second floor, to Mr. Fairbanks' offices. Jarvis was there, talking to other detectives.

"Mr. Steele, Miss Holt. Sergeant Diaz said you have something important to tell me. Is it related to the case?"

"Good afternoon Jarvis," said Steele. "I think we have some information that can be extremely relevant for your investigation. We were going to have a meeting with Mr. Fairbanks in about twenty minutes. He hired the Remington Steele Agency to investigate something that was bothering him. Maybe his suspicions were related to his death. How was he killed?"

"Someone hit him on his head with a strong object. A statue, a golden statue."

"He was killed, and the weapon was an Oscar?" asked an astonished Steele.

"You are right, Mr. Steele. What do you know that you think would help the investigation?"

Mr. Steele and Miss Holt told him then about Fairbanks' suspicions. Jarvis took notes, and after everything was shared, the detectives left the building in complete silence. Neither of them knew what to say. They hadn't had even the chance to start working on their case, and the one hiring them was already dead. It was ended before it got started.

Once in the limo, Laura told him, "I am very sorry. I know you were excited about the case."

"I am very sorry too, Laura. But at the same time, I can't stop thinking about Fairbanks. I think the man wanted to tell us something different from what had been said at the table on Saturday. Maybe he knew something… Maybe had a hunch but the murderer realized it and arrived early to silence him."

"I do think that, too," said Laura.

"Following the leader?" he asked her, trying a wry smirk.

"While you behave. As I remember that was the deal."

He took her hand in his, and patted it twice, in a grateful gesture. They spent the rest of the trip in silence, both of them immersed in their own thoughts...

He couldn't help but notice that Laura's nightmares were becoming real. They were in the middle of a big case, with the client dead, and no clues at all to start. The bomb blew up right in their hands, as she'd suspected. And he was still in charge. That had to mean something…


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Fred dropped them at Century City, and once at the agency, Mildred told them there was a package for Mr. Steele on his desk. It was a box, a red velvet one, like a big jeweler's box. They opened it, and it was full of tissue paper, and there was an envelope with his name. He opened it and read the note to Laura. 'You are the next one. It will be over before the ceremony. That's why I want to give you your award for your last performance. Take it to hell with you.'

"Let me see," told him, Laura, taking the note from his hands. While she was reading, he unwrapped the object. It was an Oscar. The second one they'd seen that day. Their only hope was that this one wouldn't kill anyone.

"I'm going to call Jarvis and tell him the news," said a worried Laura.

"No. Let me make the call."

Seeing that he was taking things so seriously, she said, "Ok. Call him, Mr. Steele."

After a hard day trying to figure out why Mr. Steele was a target in this case, and what relation could have been between Michael Fairbanks, the murderer, and Mr. Steele, they arrived at Rossmore. Mr. Steele asked the doorman at the front desk to alert him about anything suspicious. The man was used to that kind of warning from Mr. Steele. He was always eager to help to be rewarded afterward by the generous detective.

Once upstairs, he put the key in the lock carefully, looked at Laura with an uncertain glare, and turned the key. They stopped breathing and waited for something to happen. The door opened, they went in, he in the first place, trying to protect her from any danger from inside. He turned on the light, and after doing a quick revision, everything looked to be in order. They exhaled a relieved sigh neither of them knew they were holding.

Laura put the velvet box on the coffee table and joined him on the sofa. They were exhausted but at the same time full of anxiety. It was a difficult combination. They remained there for some time until he realized they would welcome some food and a deserved glass of wine. While he was getting the meal ready in the kitchen, Laura opened the velvet box, starting a new check, in hope to find an answer about all this mess. There wasn't anything new in the envelope, nothing with the statue either; the box was a regular one, nothing hidden between spaces, and the tissue paper… Something caught her attention there. It wasn't a perfectly white tissue. It had soft beige patches, almost imperceptible. She carried it to the kitchen and asked Mr. Steele to light the burner.

"I'm not in the mood to cook something elaborate, Laura. You'll have to be content with a salad," he told her.

"I'm not asking you to cook anything. I think there's something written here that may appear applying some heat. Putting the paper in front of his eyes, he caught her intention.

He did light the burner and stood right behind her while she did her work. She was very careful, avoiding burning the paper. After a few seconds, something began to get visible. Once she thought every word was visible, she started to read, 'I see you've discovered the first clue. Congratulations! But you'll have to find a few more. A murderer would never parade his crime in front of an open window. Revenge is sweet and not fattening.'

"Is that all?" he asked.

"Yes, that's all. It's our first clue. What do you think it means?" Said Laura.

"I can´t figure out anything," he said. "Let's eat. Help me with this, please."

They carried the food and the china and sat on the floor in front of the coffee table. While both of them were trying to take a break and relax for a while, neither of them could do it. Their minds were racing with the new information.

After a few minutes, she said, "Ok. I can't do it. I can't eat anything. I'm too nervous."

"I can't eat anything either. Come here." He made a gesture for her to join him on the couch. "I can't stop thinking about the note. 'A murderer would never parade his crime in front of an open window. Revenge is sweet and not fattening.' What does that mean? I can't take my mind off those words.'"

She sat beside him and put her head on his shoulders with a sigh. "Do you think we are really in danger?"

"Well, I can't remember a case starting with the client already dead, and us as the next target without a clue to start. Except for the Perennial case. And even in that one, the client remained alive until the end of it. I think dangerous would be an accurate word to describe our current situation, Laura. But we have been in danger before. My worry now is that we don't have a clue to start, and we don't have much time until the ceremony." He stopped, drank a sip of wine, and said, "You know, this situation is making me think about something."

"About what?" she asked, looking at him.

"About what you told me this morning at the office, about giving me the chance to lead the case. Do you really think I am capable of doing it? I mean, it's not an easy case. Our lives could be in danger, and who knows, someone else's could be threatened too. Do you think I am capable enough to be the one leading the case and solve it?"

"I told you what I did this morning at the office because I am sure you are capable. I trust in your abilities, and I'm sure I don't know anybody else with the Hollywood knowledge you have to lead this case. Besides, even though you are leading this one, I'll be working by your side. I am sure we are going to solve it, together. I trust in you, Mr. Steele." And with those last words, she looked through his eyes and saw his gratefulness. The kiss that followed was one of the most powerful ones that they had ever shared. It wasn't a passionate kiss. It was a loving one, a caring one, a trusting one, a reassuring one; in which all their feelings were melted with perfection, giving them the needed confidence to confront whatever would follow. They spent the night there, in front of the fireplace, in each other arms. It was enough for them, given the circumstances. They felt safe there until the first lights of the morning brought them back to reality. She awoke on the couch, a blanket covering her. And alone. He wasn't there anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

"Am I smelling coffee?" asked Laura, sleepy. He was busy making breakfast in front of the stove.

"In fact, my clever detective, you are smelling coffee, French toast, eggs, and bacon. We are going to have a very nutritious breakfast to start the day as energetically as we can," he told her full of optimism.

She noticed his particular good mood in the early morning, a fact able to be seen on very few occasions. "Did you figure out something last night that you want to share?" she asked with suspicion.

"Actually, yes I did. The first part of the note is a line from a movie."

"And I suspect you know what movie that line is from…"

"It's from 'Rear Window,' James Stewart, Grace Kelly, Paramount, 1954. "

"And the second part?"

"The second one is a quote from Alfred Hitchcock. I've found it in that Hitchcock book you brought me." He gestured to the one on the counter. "I think we are on to something, Miss Holt. Let's have breakfast, and after a good and refreshing shower, we are going to the office to start our detecting day."

"But Mr. Steele, it's 6:15 in the morning. Don't you think it's a little early for you to be at the office?" Laura asked suddenly surprised.

"Not at all, Miss Holt, the boss must be the example to the employees. As I am the boss, and I am in charge this time, and you seem to be…"

"Your employee?" asked a bemused Laura.

"What are you saying, Laura? You are not my employee. You're my favorite associate, just think about how delighted will be Mildred, having her two most appreciated bosses arriving at such an early time. Eat your breakfast, Miss Holt."

"Good morning Mildred!" their voices sounded in unison.

"Good morning Miss Holt, Chief! What are you doing here so early in the morning?" asked Mildred surprised. But after a brief thought, she knew why they were arriving together, and very early. The day before, they had decided to go to his place, because it seemed safer than the loft... They must have spent the whole night trying to figure out something about the case. His attire was impeccable as always, but Miss Holt wasn't as neat as always. She was wearing the same clothes as the day before, minus a change in minor details, Mildred thought to herself.

They went straight to his office, and after a few minutes, and a cup of coffee in hand, they were in the middle of a brainstorming session trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together. "I think we have two things to start: a quote from Rear Window, and a quote from Alfred Hitchcock himself. The movie was the story of a wheelchair-bound photographer, who spies on his neighbors from his apartment window and becomes convinced one of them has committed murder. And the quote itself must be something our murderer enjoys to show, the same as Hitchcock did: his brilliance," he said.

"Why do you think he chose that movie?" asked Laura.

"I think it has something to do with the crime scene. He wants us to follow his game. We should go to Fairbanks' office, to check about it."

They arrived at Fairbanks' building after a brief call to Jarvis, asking for permission to enter the office. Once there, each one started their own search for clues. Laura had her eyes glued to the wall, and Mr. Steele, changed angles to look through the window from every part of the room. He couldn't find anything, except for another building on the other side of the street. They should investigate the occupants in there. But just when he thought that, and was ready to tell Laura to leave the office, he saw her looking at the pictures hanging on the wall, absolutely entranced. In them, a proud Fairbanks was receiving several awards and shaking hands with the whole Hollywood Royalty. "I wish I could recognize some of these faces," she said still thinking.

"I think they are all from show business, but not from the glamorous side. They must be from the business part. Don't forget our friend Fairbanks was a recognized film producer. His work was developed mostly behind the cameras, and perhaps even behind the movie projects itself," said Steele. "Let's visit the building across the street, and afterward we can ask Fairbanks' secretary for a list of the people in these pictures so Mildred can run a search about them. What do you think?"

"Let's go," answered Laura.

They crossed the street and entered it into the building's lobby, to read the advertising about all the companies having their offices there. Mr. Steele was standing behind Laura. Nothing caught their attention, until they saw one name, and looking almost at the same time to each other's face, they said, "Selznick!"

Then Steele looked at Laura with surprise. "Do you know who Selznick is?"

"Of course I know who Selznick is. He was the producer of 'Gone with the Wind,' do you remember I told you I love that movie?" she asked.

"I certainly remember the times we spoke about that movie, Miss Holt. Three times for sure, I can gladly remember. Once, when I had amnesia, in that shed in Ireland…; another one when you promised me the entire MGM library, during the Lester Shane case…, and another at the end of the same case, when we both decided to dismiss the screen show to focus on our own not giving a dam moment. I can say I remember vividly every second of our talks about that movie." He smiled at her wiggling his eyebrows.

She blushed and hit him softly in his ribs. "Focus on the case, Mr. Steele," she said trying to hide her smile from him. "Mildred will be very busy for the rest of the day."

"Are you going to tell her about our 'Gone with the Wind'?" asked an amused Steele.

"Are you out of your mind? If I open my mouth about our…that movie, she would not be able to have anything done along the whole day. Her mind would be occupied dreaming about…, you know…"

"I think I will not be able to concentrate on other things either, Miss Holt…" he told her with the pleasure of the memories plastered on his face.

"Behave yourself, Mr. Steele. Remember you are in charge."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

When they returned back to the office, the list of the pictures was on Mr. Steele's desk among other things… There was a new velvet box received that morning. Just when they were ready to open it, Mildred came into the office in a rush, interrupting them. "Mr. Steele, Miss Holt, wait!"

"What, Mildred? What is it?" asked Laura.

"Don't open the box. I have a bad feeling about it! I was watching a movie last night, and I think it could be a signal," answered the secretary.

"What movie?" asked a bemused Mr. Steele.

"'The Postman Always Rings Twice, Jack Nicholson, Jessica Lange, MGM, 1981.'"

"Splendid, Mildred. Great choice. Although… I love the original version of the movie, with Lana Turner and John Garfield, the 1946's one. Why Mildred! I thought your good taste was limited to literature…" He said giving her an accomplice look.

Laura rolled her eyes then, "Why do you think it would be a signal, Mildred?" "Because Chief, Miss Holt… think about the movie title: 'The postman always rings twice.' This is the second ring we have if we talk about deliveries. Besides the movie plot runs on the line of planning a murder, the very same thing that the one sending those boxes has in mind of."

Both detectives looked at her perplexed. It looked like Mildred was several steps ahead of them about elaborating theories. She could be right. The box could be a trap.

"Call Jarvis, Mildred," said Mr. Steele.

Mildred did as she was told. The Bomb Squadron came to the office, and after some time of hard and dangerous work, they disabled the device. The blasting cap was in the lid of the box. If they had opened it, the whole office would have been ashes at that very moment. The note was resting under the statue. Mr. Steele took the Oscar and gave the paper to Miss Holt. "'I can see you are as good as everybody says. But we are still in the game. I'm sure anyone likes a good crime, provided they are not the victim. Patience is a virtue. So is breathing, Mr. Steele. Enjoy your last breaths, detective.'" Laura finished reading and stared at the paper in silence. There seemed to be lesser clues in that message than in the first one. She couldn't discover anything. Realizing that, she gave him the note. He stared at it with the same attention he invested while opening a safe.

"You are not his target," said a thoughtful Steele. "He is after me."

"Why do you think that?" asked Laura.

"Because he knows you are the brains here, Miss Holt. He knows you are the one qualified to discover the crime, because you are brilliant, trained, and you love to unlock mysteries and good crimes. You are not the victim or the target. I am."

Mildred, who was still there absorbing the news, feeling like a real detective after her correct previous deduction, heard the printer start working, and ran to her desk to find the new information. It was the list they were expecting, about the opposite building owners. Mildred gave it to Miss Holt, and she read it carefully. It was an old building, built around 1918, and every floor was occupied entirely by only one company. They began to study the new note, to discover if it was linked with any of the information they already had. They spent a long time, and after the third round of coffee offered by Mildred, they realized that it was getting late, and the tiredness in everyone was starting to show. They sent the secretary home, after a brief discussion, and the two of them decided to have a quick dinner on the way to the loft. She would pick up some of her needed toiletries, and spend the night at Rossmore. Again, it felt safer than Laura's loft.

They decided to take advantage of the breezy evening, and drove to Malibu's Pier, to have simple hot dogs while taking a stroll. There were a lot of people there enjoying the beautiful night, and it really helped to improve their moods. They were strolling, she with his coat on, he with his hand on her back.

"Why do you think this happens to us, Laura? Every time we start to enjoy our time together, one of us adds an extra dose of excitation to the equation. We can't stay calm, and relaxed, the two of us alone. Why do we always call somebody or something to interfere?" he asked.

"I don't know." She answered. "We may need to improve our dedication to the relationship itself. When we spend time together, we are together, but at the same time, we are paying too much attention to the surrounding, always trying not to miss anything. Maybe that is our big mistake. We are missing to put the focus on the most important thing, us."

"Do you think is possible for us to change that?" he asked.

"I think everything is possible Mr. Steele. You are in charge, and I am behaving. That's a twist! And we are having a talk about us… and Mildred didn't interrupt us yet… Maybe a beginning."

"I like your way of thinking, Miss Holt," he told her drawing her to him and kissing her hair.

"I'm glad you suggested this place for tonight. It's nice," she told him.

He stopped, put his arms on her back, and pulling her to him told her, "Always trust in me, Laura. I'm a man with taste!"

"You really are a man with taste, Mr. Steele. You've got a taste in clothes, taste in food…" She was feeling him getting closer after every one of her words.

"Hmm, and taste in women." He told her just inches from her lips. "I like your flavor, Laura." They kissed savoring the promise of a future together, beyond their own fears and weaknesses.

Right after breaking the kiss Laura realized he'd fed her a line. She asked him, "Really, Mr. Steele? North by Northwest? I'm not sure I believe you. That was Eva Marie Saint, you know?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Don't doubt me, Laura. I'm right. I'm the one conducting this case…."

He winked an eye at her, and they resumed their walk hand in hand.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

On the way back to Rossmore, they felt much more relaxed than when they'd left the office. Before getting into his apartment, they went through the same routines as the night before, and once all the possible dangers were already dismissed, they took off their shoes just as quickly as possible and collapsed on the couch. They felt so exhausted that the mere thought of any activity sounded terrifying. "You take the bed tonight, Laura. I'll stay on the couch," said Mr. Steele gentlemanly.

"I think we both need a bed tonight. Promise to behave yourself, and we have a deal."

"I don't think I have the strength to try anything tonight, Laura. I guess I can't even make it to the bed, he answered to her.

"I think I'll have a shower first. It sounds like an impossible challenge right now, but I know I will be grateful after the effort." Taking her bag, she headed to the bathroom.

He remained on the couch, eyes closed for a while, and after a few minutes, and feeling that he wasn't going to make it through the wait until Laura's shower end; he stood up and turned on the TV. A good movie would help him to find some energy because he didn't want to fall asleep until she did. He started a search through the channels until he found a classic. 'North by Norwest' was on the screen. Twice in the same day, he thought… Cary Grant would help to relax his mind, at least to wait with his eyes opened. He was trying to mentally quote the movie, but stopped at some point, when he heard the word 'virtue.' It was the quote! It was a Hitchcock movie! Jumping from the sofa, he ran to the bedroom, almost crashing against Laura, who was leaving the bathroom wearing his robe and a towel in her hair. "I've found something Laura!"

"What? What did you find?"

"North by Northwest, Cary Grant, Eva Marie Saint, MGM, 1959. The quote is from that movie."

"That movie again? Where is the note?" she asked.

"I left the box in the dining room, on the table, with the other one," answered Steele.

"Let me get dressed, and I'll be there in a minute," said Laura, and grabbing her bag, she ran back into the bathroom.

They met at the dining room, and once their eyes were on the note over the table, he told her, "Here, this is it.' Patience is a virtue. So is breathing'. It was a dialogue between Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint. This is the movie, another Hitchcock one. A hapless New York advertising executive is mistaken for a government agent by a group of foreign spies, and is pursued across the country while he looks for a way to survive."

"Do you find any relation with the elements we already have?"

"I can't think about anything right now. But it's a start." He looked at her with hope.

"It's a start," she answered. "Why don't we follow our original plan and have some rest to start tomorrow with more energy?"

And without saying a word, he showed her the way with his hand, "After you, Miss Holt."

They went to bed, and after a soft goodnight kiss, he turned off the light and put his arms around her. The sensation was a lullaby for him, and in a couple of minutes, his breathing found another rhythm. He was deep asleep.

The shower had done wonders to her body. She found a new dose of energy she didn't know she had. Once she heard him fall into a deep sleep, she relaxed, and without getting out of the bed, or even making a move out of his embrace, she put her mind in overdrive, trying to figure out a relation between all the clues they had at hand. In the first place, she set her mind at the beginning of the case: the Golf Club. They were at that table with Fairbanks and some of his friends. They spoke about a suspected trap related to bets. They settled a meeting with Mr. Fairbanks. When they arrived at the meeting, he was already dead. The weapon was an Oscar. Jarvis was in charge of the investigation. They'd received the first box at the office. They'd found the message hidden in the tissue. There was a movie quote there, from a Hitchcock movie. They went to Fairbanks' office. She kept her eyes on the wall full of pictures. They went to the other building. The name Selznick was there. Gone with the Wind was the movie this time. They received the second box. Mildred stopped them from opening it. She spoke about another movie then. Not a Hitchcock one. There was a bomb inside the box. The note was about another Hitchcock movie. The words that popped up more than once were: movie, box, Oscar, Hitchcock, Fairbanks, note. The key to arriving at the end of the case was supposed to be there. But she was exhausted and losing her battle against her body. With all these words in her mind, she followed him falling asleep. The feeling of his caring arms around her was the last push to send her to explore dreamland.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

The stimulating coffee smell awoke all the sensitivity in her brain. Opening her eyes, she knew she was alone again. He'd be up making breakfast, the same as the day before. She went to the bathroom, poured some water over her face, brushed her teeth, and went to meet him in the kitchen. "You woke up early again! Now that you are in charge, you seem to be picking up my habits…" But he wasn't there. "Mr. Steele? Where are you?" She peered through the kitchen door, but he wasn't there… She noticed there were now three boxes on the counter. "Mr. Steele, please don't…" she begged to herself. She approached the boxes, and beside the new one, was a note. His note, this time. She took it in her shaking hands, and read it: "Laura: I found the box at the door this morning. As I told you yesterday, I am the target, but you are the one capable of disentangling this mess. The last thing I want is to put you in danger because of me. I know we work better together, but this time I am in charge. I have the decision. We'll work together, but from separate fields. You will know about me. I promise. P/S: I have something I have to confess: I have your golf glove, Laura. I have it with me. I took it from your back pocket while you were studying your last shot last Saturday. It was my last chance to have a date with you that Saturday. Sorry about that. I'll return it to you on our pending dinner. Promise me you'll be my date next Saturday. Take care. Remington Steele."

"You didn't have to do that," she sadly whispered to herself. "We will have a date, Mr. Steele. I promise." She took the note from the box, and read it: "He looked exactly the same as when he was alive, only he was vertical. The picture's over. Now I have to go and put it on film."

It looked just like a death warrant. That was why he'd left. He didn't want her near him. He didn't want her in danger by being at his side. He needed her solving the case, but safe. He cared about her. She reclined herself on the counter and closed her eyes. "Just behave, Laura. He is in charge, and he asked you to stay focused." She would do it. They would get out of this mess.

The morning at the office started the same as every day. Mildred was already there when Miss Holt arrived. "Good morning, Mildred," Miss Holt while walking straight to her office. She closed the door behind her.

"This is not a good start," thought Mildred, noticing that something was missing. Not something, but someone. Mr. Steele didn't arrive with Miss Holt. They were supposed to be together, just for precaution. Miss Holt's face had been different from the day before. She looked worried, but at the same time, she looked tired and sad. Mildred didn't waste a minute and went to Laura's office to ask her about Mr. Steele's whereabouts. She knocked but didn't receive an answer. Then she opened the door. Laura wasn't there. The connecting door was opened, and Miss Holt was at his desk, staring at all the papers sprawled through the desktop. "Miss Holt, Laura, why did you arrive alone? Where is the boss? You two were supposed to be together. Did anything happen last night?"

Laura lifted up her eyes from the papers to the secretary, and trying to find some strength, she told her about the note. "Another box arrived this morning, Mildred. But this time, to Mr. Steele's home. I slept there last night because it felt safer than staying at the loft. He woke up earlier than me this morning, found the box, and read the message. Then he left. He wrote a note telling me that he was the target and that he didn't want to expose me unnecessarily to any danger. He left but told me to stay focused on the case, and that with both of us working together but from separate locations, we will find the solution to this mess..."

"Well, he must have had a good reason to do what he did, Miss Holt. You know that I am here with you for whatever you need. I'll bring you your coffee, and we will be ready to start our work with all these papers."

"I know, Mildred. Thank you."

Mildred left a thoughtful Laura looking at the message she had in her hand. It was the last one. She put it on the desk, and with a sigh, went to her office to hang her coat and to get ready to start the day. They didn't have any time to lose. There were a lot of things to work out.

Mr. Steele reclined on his sofa, waiting for the movie to start. He hadn't left Rossmore. He'd hidden at the balcony until she'd gone. He saw her when she woke up and saw her back when she was in the kitchen reading the note. At some point, he feared she would be angry with him. It was the second time he was leaving her for her own good after promising not to do that. But she hadn't been angry, she'd looked resigned. The plan had worked as he'd thought. After a brief moment in the kitchen, Laura'd stood up and had walked to the bedroom with decision. That was the Laura he was expecting to see. He'd never thought he would be grateful to see her in a professional mode under such pressure while leaving him behind her. But he was.

His next step would be to find the movie quoted in the last message… He was thinking about The Trouble with Harry. He didn't have a copy of this one, but after a brief call to the video store, the movie was delivered, and he was ready to start it. It was another Hitchcock movie, but almost a black comedy. The titles appeared on the screen, and all his attention was focused on the case.

Laura was reading the files Mildred had brought the day before. She was working with the building owners list. For the second time, the name Selznick took her attention. She remembered with a sad smile the funny chat they'd shared the previous day about Gone with the Wind, and about Mildred's thoughts. And about how peculiar life was, because at that moment Mildred was the one in front of her, and he wasn't. Laura asked the secretary to investigate the name. Maybe David O. Selznick was the key to solve the case. Mildred did as she was told, and half an hour later she had a complete report about the man. He was a Hollywood producer, and he'd worked in some of Alfred Hitchcock's films. They didn't get along together, and after one of their movies, Selznick won an Oscar competing against a Hitchcock movie for best movie. He got all the credit, and Hitchcock ended with his hands empty. This situation, among others, ended their association. Several years later, they'd seemed to be in good terms again because they'd made more films together.

It was time to make a visit to Selznick Productions, thought Laura. "Mildred, I'm going to make a visit to this company. Hold down the fort until I'm back. Maybe Mr. Steele is sending a message at any point. And please, be careful."

"It's ok, Miss Holt. I'll call you to the limo if I have any news to share."

Laura arrived at the building and went directly to the company's floor. Once there she asked for the director. It was Samuel Selznick, David's son. After she gave some explanations to the secretary and mentioned the name of Fairbanks, the woman finally agreed to announce her. Mr. Selznick received her at his office, and after she'd explained as fast as she could, why she was there, he put himself at her disposition. Mr. Selznick told her that his father association with Hitchcock had been a difficult one. They'd had their ups and downs, but in the end, they'd made a lot of films together. He told her he had been under the impression that Hitchcock never forgave his father for winning the Academy Award for best movie. He felt his films were his masterpieces and was very possessive about them. They talked for some time about other matters, but they didn't seem relevant to Miss. Holt.

Once the visit was over, Laura returned to the office. She asked Mildred to run a search about Alfred Hitchcock. It was the name that was popping up at every step of the way, after all. She wanted to know everything about that mystery man.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Mr. Steele was in the middle of the movie when he found the quote. He knew right after the start that it was the correct movie. And he discovered something additional in it. The film contained the transference of guilt theme, and the guilt bounced all over the main players. A small gem of a movie that often gets overlooked. Fairbanks' murderer was doing all these things to mark someone as guilty. Someone that he thought had damaged Hitchcock in some way. He was making them work following Hitchcock movies quotes. He and Laura weren't the real targets. They were some characters in this murderer's movie. The word revenge was in the last message, and if they didn't work fast, somebody was going to be dead soon. He had to call Laura at the office.

Miss Holt was reading the file Mildred had given her. It was a full resume about the King of Mystery. Two things were calling her attention at first sight. The names Selznick and Fairbanks were there: Selznick as a producer and Douglas Fairbanks as the United Artists founder. She was mentally tying the knots when Mildred told her Mr. Steele was on the phone. She almost jumped to answer the call. "Hello? Where are you? Are you all right?"

"I'm ok, Laura. I found something about the case. I am not the target. We are playing characters here, Laura. It's all about Hitchcock and his movies. The murderer thinks Hitchcock was damaged in some way by someone and is trying to make that person pay for his supposed guilt."

"I think I know who the target could be, Mr. Steele," said an encouraged Laura. "I've been at Selznick's office this morning, and he told me his father and Hitchcock had a complicated partnership when they worked together and that the director never forgave him for taking an Oscar right out from his hands."

"Why don't you come here and we can go to Selznick's office together?" she said just wanting to feel him beside her.

"Let's meet at Selznick's office, Laura. There's no time."

She tried to convince him to go to the place together without success.

"Let me do the tactical thinking this time, Miss Holt. I'm in charge in this case, don't you remember?" he told her. He knew he was closer to the place than Laura. Being there in their separate ways would give him the chance to arrive first, and maybe find the murderer without exposing her to more risk than was necessary.

"I remember," she said with a smile. "Meet you there, Mr. Steele. Please, take care…", but she noticed she was alone on the phone.

Selznick was on his way out of the office when the door opened. "Hello, Samuel. Nice to meet you again," said the man, showing him the gun.

"Porter! What are you doing here?" asked Selznick. He saw the gun, and made two steps back."So many years had passed, and you are still thinking about it?" he asked…

"So many years, and it's still the same. You didn't understand, they didn't understand…They will never recognize him as the genius he was. They never gave him an Oscar, never a recognition. They gave him that honorary Irving Thalberg award just to make the audience think he'd won something, but the Studios never liked him. The producers never liked him. And he was the genius behind the camera. Someone will pay for this omission. Fairbanks was the first one to die. You will be the second."

"Why don't you put down the gun so we can talk? I know you don't want to do this, Porter."

At that moment, Steele, who had arrived and found the secretary, lying on the floor, started to walk through the opened door extremely carefully, without making a sound. Selznick saw him, but remained quiet, trying not to disgust Porter.

"You are wrong, Selznick. I am doing this with pleasure. There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it, said Mr. Hitchcock, once. I'm enjoying your fear." Once Steele saw the situation was under his control, he put his arm around Porter's neck, and surprising him, removed the gun from his hand.

At that very moment Laura arrived, and watching the situation, she asked her associate, "Should I call the Police, Mr. Steele?"

"Call Inspector Jarvis, Miss Holt." I think our character has just performed his final act in this movie."


End file.
